The Last Remnant Drabbles
by Kirara-Elfkin
Summary: This is a collection of drabbles and/or one shots based around Rush, David and the other main characters of TLR. Genres also include horror, tragedy, family, and that's just the first three. Ch. twelve is up, I'm on a role here!
1. Healing the Wounded

AN: This is my first real try at writing fanfiction, so I need reviews to tell me if I'm going wrong anywhere. I've written original stuff before, but just haven't had the time to write recently, what with being bogged down with college work. Now I have some spare time however, so I thought I'd give it a bash. This will hopefully be a series of canon and AU drabbles, to try and expand the rather small TLR story section. (It's a great game, why so little fiction?) THESE WILL BE FULL OF SPOILERS, as they will be mostly centred around Rush, and his interactions/relationships with the other main characters (with a generous helping of Dave, naturally). I might try my hand at a little Rush/Dave, but it won't go beyond the mild stuff (I might be able to read the hard stuff, but I CAN'T write it.)

Ok, I think it's now safe to say on with the first drabble!

Healing the Wounded

Remnants, present before the dawn of time itself, their origin a mystery, their true potential unfathomable to the mortal mind. Their power could do great good, if used correctly. They could also commit great acts of destruction, it just depended on the will of their bonded. However bonding to a Remnant carried a terrible price, for they consumed the life energy of their mortal bonded, piece by piece, until the mortals untimely death.

Rush knew this, and hated it. He knew what he was, a Remnant in a mitran body. He didn't know how it was possible, but he had seen and heard too much to ignore it. He had seen the Conqueror's power, heard his commands to "awaken", and most importantly, felt his own power stir in response to the Conqueror. When Rush was sure he was alone, he had practiced pulling out that power from within himself, controlling it, rather than unleashing a burst of power as he did in battle. He knew a little of what he could do now and thought that he could help Dave, if only a little.

He saw the effect the Gae Bolg had on Dave each time he used it, the pallor of his skin, his shortness of breath, and the unnatural exhaustion that took him after every battle in which he used the Gae Bolg. With all that had been happening recently, the devastation of Nagapur just one of them, Dave's sleep should have been riddled with nightmares. Due to the Gae Bolg however, he slept like the dead, but barely seemed rested each morning. Rush hated seeing his friend like this, so he wanted to try and reverse some of the damage done by the Gae Bolg. In using his own power, Rush could maybe do something to help him.

This was why he was standing in David's room at three in the morning, watching his friend sleep. Having locked the door when he came in, he knew he would have some warning if anyone heard him in here. Rush took a deep breath, and stepped up to the side of the king sized bed closest to Dave. Reaching out, he gently placed one hand over Dave's right eye, where the eye patch of the Gae Bolg appeared. His other hand he placed over Dave's heart, feeling the warm beat pulsing through his fingers. Closing his eyes, he retreated into his mind, reaching for the power within himself. Pulling out a slender rope of pale green energy, he grasped it tightly as he felt for David's own life energy. He found it, bright and blue as his eyes, still strong, but fragmented, as though pieces had been torn out of it with great force. Pushing aside his anger for the moment, he took the rope of power pulled from his core and wove it ever so gently through the wounds in Dave's life energy. As he wove, the rope melted and expanded to seamlessly fill the ragged holes, leaving splashes of green mixed in with sapphire blue, the edges a bright aquamarine where both colours mixed. Pulling away after what seemed like hours, he breathed a sigh of relief as he watched the two energies mix smoothly.

Rush opened his eyes in the real world just in time to see Dave's face relax and twist into a tiny smile, his breathing deep and even, rather than the short breathy panting it had been. Even in the darkened room, Rush could see a healthy glow suffusing his friends face. Not wanting to stay any longer than necessary encase he was caught, he made his way to the door, wincing as the lock opened with a loud click in the silence of the room. When nothing happened after a moment, Rush slipped out the door, and sped back to his own room, feeling rather tired himself.

Now! If you just look down there should be a nice little button marked review that is waiting eagerly to be pressed. ^_~


	2. The Aftermath

AN: Right, drabble number two. This one is about what Rush and co found after hurrying back to Athlum after the Nest of Eagles fight… it's not pretty.

"speaking"

'thoughts'

The Aftermath

As they neared the city gates Rush knew something had gone terribly wrong while they were away fighting the conqueror's forces. The Valeria Heart, the giant sword-like remnant that towered over Athlums skyline was gone, and he could see guards and civilians running around in a disorganised panic. One of the soldiers left behind to guard Athlum, a Captain judging by his uniform, came running out to meet the returning party, relief warring with shock and panic on his face.

"My Lord, it's terrible! T-the Conqueror was here, he took the Valeria Heart, and he… he…"

Torgal glared at the man, about to speak, but he was cut off when David smoothly interrupted.

"Captain, please explain what happened, try to calm down a little."

The soldier took a deep breath, and visibly straightened.

"The Conqueror arrived shortly after you left, my Lord, h-he tore the main gates apart with his bare hands, and proceeded to kill anyone who attempted to fight him… Lady Emma…tried to stop him…"

At this, David's face became pale, and he pushed past the soldier, running towards the city square.

"Dave!" "Lord David!" "My Lord!"

Rush and the generals raced after David, dodging and weaving through the frightened and confused people thronging the streets. Rush, living up to his name, reached the square first, passing the thick iron studded, but still shattered gates, barely noticing the fist sized hole punching straight through them. He looked to the side, staring in poorly concealed horror as he passed a soldier who had had his head… he could only describe it as crushed, a mass of mangled flesh and broken bone, covered in slowly congealing blood, his body lying as though he had been tossed aside, like a rag doll.

'My God, what sort of monster is he?!' thought Rush, staring at the mangled corpse.

"Dave! There you are…!"

Rush edged around the enormous gouge in the middle of the square, spotting David kneeling by something partially covered with a blood soaked sheet on the ground.

"Dave, what's… oh no…"

Rush saw David's face, blank of any emotion and white as chalk, as he stared down at the pale, lifeless, blood spattered face of Emma Honeywell. He sank down to his knees beside Dave, reaching out with a shaking hand and lifting the sheet that covered Emma's body. David didn't try to stop him, seemingly unaware of Rush's presence. Rush could only stare in shock and mounting revulsion, at the gaping, ragged hole in Emma's abdomen, her whole lower half drenched in sticky, dark red blood. He couldn't take the sight anymore, and dropped the sheet, moving to the side and retching violently, the sickly sweet smell of so much blood clogging his nose, causing him to dry heave for several more minutes, with nothing left to throw up.

A few moments later, he was vaguely aware of the other generals arriving, hearing the exclamations of shock and horror, the sounds strangely muted, as though he was underwater. He felt someone gripping his arms, pulling him to his feet, but his legs held no strength, and collapsed under him, everything around him fading to black.

"Hey, Pagus, something's wrong with Rush!"

Pagus turned when he heard Blocter's shout, swiftly hopping over to the two. Seeing Rush slumped in Blocter's hold, he ran a quick diagnostic spell.

"It's alright Blocter, Rush just fainted, he's in shock, the sheer… brutality of what he's seen, combined with the stress over his sister and parents, was just too much."

Pagus waved over two healers, and told them to see to Rush.

"Get him to the healing rooms, keep him warm and hydrated, he's suffering from shock."

After the healers left with Rush, he and Blocter moved over to David, coaxing him up to the castle to be treated, leaving Torgal to organise the soldiers and calm the people.

_ I'm all depressed now… poor Emma T_T, but also quite happy with how this turned out. ^_^ Please review, reviews make me happy!


	3. Family Bonds

Oh yes, when Irina mentions how people _feel_ she's referring to how Marion's Blessing lets her tell people apart from Remnants. I think she can tell this difference all the time, like a passive aspect of the ability.

Family Bonds

Irina always knew her brother was special. At first, it was because he was _her_ big brother, and no one else's, but as she grew older, she began to realise that he _felt_ different than anyone else she had met. To Irina, most people _felt_ warm, faded around the edges, and they often had a pale blue shimmer over their skin. Rush however _felt _hot, giving off a wonderful, penetrating heat, that warmed her straight to the core. He also shone with a bright mint green light, almost like a halo surrounding his body. She didn't realise just how special he was though, until their parent's took them both on a trip to see Athlum's most prominent Remnant, Valeria Heart, when she was 10. The Remnant had its own glow, a bright burnished gold, but the intensity of the glow, and the _feel_ of the Remnant were so similar to Rush she felt staggered.

She didn't find out the whole truth about Rush until years later, but that never changed the fact that, Remnant or not, _different_ or not, he was still her big brother, and that was all that mattered.

Hmm… (looks up at drabble) I'm not happy with this, it's too short, and it just didn't flow like the other two…

Oh yes, FEEL FREE TO TAKE ANY IDEAS YOU GET FROM ANY OF THESE DRABBLES. I don't mind one bit if you do, just mention where you got the idea in the authors notes of any story you might write. A big part of the reason I'm putting these up is to try to expand the TLR story idea pool, as it is very small right now.


	4. Luminescence Cycles are a Pain

AN: Now I know I'm nuttier than a fruit cake. _

This is a partial AU drabble, Rush knows that he is a Remnant, as do his parents and sister, but no one else. It is also set during the six month period after events in Nagapur. It also means he doesn't know the Conqueror is a Remnant.

Blame my insomnia for this one, I haven't slept for two days… _

Luminescence Cycles are Nothing but Pain

When Rush awoke that morning he knew something was off. Sitting up in bed a gentle throb of pain from his abdomen let him know exactly what the problem was, his Luminescence cycle was starting.

"Oh great, this is perfect!" Sarcasm dripping off every syllable, he fell back onto his bed, slamming the pillow over his face to muffle the scream of frustration that escaped his lips. Luminescence was something he dreaded happening.

Once every three months, for exactly ten days, Rush had to suffer through his "pain cycle" as he liked to call it. Because he was, as far as he knew, unique as Remnants go, having a mitran form, his Luminescence was also different to most Remnants. He didn't actually generate energy as light like other Remnants, he suffered agonising muscle spasms and mood swings. It was apparently, or so his mother said, a result of the energy created by his cycle causing a chemical imbalance, and disrupting the electrical impulses to certain muscles in his body. His father once said it was his "inner female" causing problems, just before he was clobbered by two irate females and a furiously embarrassed Rush, he never mentioned it again.

Just as Rush was beginning to drift back off to sleep, hoping to have a few more pain free hours of rest, Emmy came sweeping into his room, announcing he'd missed breakfast already, it was nearly dinner time, and to stop being lazy. Rush gave a half hearted moan, and buried his head further under the pillow.

After being physically tipped out of bed(Emmy was way stronger than she looked), and getting dressed in the baggiest, comfiest clothes he could find, he finally made it to the dining hall, slouching in his seat and letting his head drop to the table top with a muffled *thud*.

Confused looks were exchanged by the other occupants and David cleared his throat, about to ask what was wrong, when Irina entered, running a little late.

"Sorry I'm …" her voice trailed off when she registered the confused looks being shot at Rush, and the way he slumped in his seat.

"Rush? What's wrong?"

Rush mumbled something inaudible under his breath as Irina took her seat beside him.

"Pardon?"

He lifted his head just enough to mumble in her ear as she leaned closer to him.

"M' cycles started…", then let his head drop back onto the table, the gentle, insistent ache in his middle growing steadily worse. Irina sat back, eyes wide, as she couldn't decide whether she should feel sorry for her brother, or pity those around her, as Rush could get quite snarky during his cycle.

Three days later, and Rush was misery personified. The poor boy was bed ridden, with what felt like red hot pokers and dull wooden spoons scraping at his insides. Everyone but Irina was mystified as to what was happening. Pagus had checked him over several times, and nearly had his head bitten off just as many times. Poor Blocter hadn't ventured into Rush's room since he was chased out the first time. His tail was still sporting mild burns from the shock spell Rush had used. Even Torgal was steering clear of Rush until he was over whatever was affecting him. Emmy chose to emulate Torgal in this matter. The only ones safe to enter were Irina, for obvious reasons, and David, who always made sure to come bearing gifts of muscle relaxing herbs and divain skin hot-water bottles, who's heat helped with the pain.

By the seventh night, much of the pain had receded, though Rush was still a bit moody. The teen was lying in bed, drifting in and out of sleep, his hot-water bottle a comfortable weight on his abdomen. He roused slightly as he heard the door open, but only enough to mumble a sleepy hello as Dave slipped into the room. Strolling over, David sat on the edge of the bed, brandishing a fluffy… something, and waved it under the recovering boy's nose. Said boy opened sleep glazed eyes to stare at the fuzzy object, puzzled.

"It's something Emma got for me when I was a child. I had all but forgotten about it until today. Go on, smell it. If you like it, you can have it."

Rush sat up slightly and leant over, pressing his shoulder lightly against David's side, sniffing tentatively at the fluffy object. Sleep heavy eyes proceeded to flutter shut as Rush leaned more of his weight against Dave, burying his nose into the soft fur, inhaling deeply. The young Marquise was a little startled at Rush's reaction to the lavender scented toy, but before he could do anything, a pair of arms snaked round his waist, pulling him into a sleepy hug.

"Mm… thanks Dave"

Slightly flustered, David awkwardly returned the hug.

"There's no need to thank me Rush, it's just a toy"

Earning a tired smile the boy released the young ruler and lay back down, cuddling the toy.

Getting up and heading towards the door, David almost didn't hear Rush's next words,

"It's not just the toy (_yawn_), it's for everything… night Dave…"

Pausing at the door, the Marquise felt a stir of affection for the boy who'd made such an impact on his life, who'd become the first real friend he had outside of his generals.

Whispering a quiet goodnight, David closed the door, and headed off to his own bedchambers.

Three days later, Rush was back to his usual, exuberant self, apologising to Blocter for his burnt tail, and pestering the kitchen staff for more of their delicious apple pastries.

Meanwhile, several hundred miles away, a certain red clothed figure awoke to a very familiar pain…


	5. Keeping Secrets

AN: Set after the events in Undelwalt, not one of my AUs, a possible canon conversation.

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Keeping secrets

"Dave? What… what do you think of all this stuff about the Conqueror being a remnant?"

David stopped his pacing and turned to look at Rush, standing somewhat awkwardly in the doorway. He sighed, and turned to face the glass doors leading out onto the balcony.

"I just don't know Rush, it seems impossible… a remnant that can talk, think, act like a real person… Part of me thinks it shouldn't matter what he is, but it does."

Rush took a few hesitant steps into the room, closing the door softly behind him.

"What does the other part think?"

David's shoulders tensed at that small query, glancing sharply over at Rush. Seeing the boys unusually serious face seemed to decide something for him, and he relaxed, staring out at the sky.

One part of me is amazed by it… but another part, the part that hates the Gae Bolg for taking my father, thinks such a thing is totally wrong, that it goes against all the laws of nature."

Hearing those words come out of his best friends mouth was almost like hearing nails being pounded into his own coffin to Rush. Fighting back the wave of disappointment Rush mentally berated himself. He shouldn't have expected any different, what with Dave's rather bad experiences with remnants, both old and recent. It still stung though, knowing his best friend might not accept him if he found out that Rush was the same as the Conqueror.

Mentally reaffirming his vow to keep the knowledge of his true nature a secret for as long as possible he blinked, realising Dave was talking to him.

"Sorry, what was that? I was away in la-la land there for a sec."

David hastily muffled a snort of laughter at the boy's choice of words, and repeated his question.

"What do you think of it, you seemed to know almost before the God Emperor finished explaining. What made you so sure?"

Upon hearing that question, Rush's thought processes shuddered to a halt, leaving him grasping at air for a response to a question he _really _didn't want to answer.

"I…uh…"

David looked at him expectantly, lifting an eyebrow as though to say 'well?'

"Do…does it really matter what he is, we still have to beat him either way, and oh myisthatthetimeIreallyneedtogoandgetreadyfordinnerseeyoulaterDavebye!"

With that rather hurried sentence Rush nearly bolted out the door and down the corridor, leaving a distinctly bemused Marquise blinking in a cloud of metaphorical dust. After successfully decoding his friends parting sentence David huffed in slight annoyance, shaking his head sadly.

"The more you try to hide it, the more sure you make me, Rush. I know you're not what you seem to be, but you're still my friend, nothing will change that, I swear it."

Having only the silence of an empty room answer him, he turned to get ready for dinner, saddened but understanding of his friends predicament.

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Announcement! A plot bunny for a possible chaptered story has taken up residence in my brain, as a result, I am going to try writing it and see where it takes me. It won't appear for a while yet as I want to get a few chapters written before I start posting. I'll try and keep the drabbles fairly regular but won't promise anything.

Thanks to all my reviewers, you all get a cookie, and to those who have read and left me hanging… would putting a few words kill you? I do accept anonymous reviews, as ANY reviews help.


	6. Rush and the Puppy

AN: If you can't remember, dagons are those horrible floating jellyfish things that you find in numor mine.

**Rush and the Puppy**

When Rush entered his rooms after dinner that day, he knew something was off. He had left his room looking like any teenage boys, slightly messy, bed unmade, but tidy enough to find the things he needed.

What he came back to was a bomb site. Clothes strewn all over the floor, bed bare, pillows torn open and feathers everywhere. Gaping at the feathery carnage spread all over his room, he almost didn't hear the small scuffling noise coming from the half open wardrobe.

Turning towards the sound, he crept towards it, cautiously pulling open the wardrobe door, one hand on the hilt of his sword.

He half expected an intruder, or a monster like a dagon to be hiding there. What he got was a scrap of red and tan fur, with big tawny eyes staring at him over the remains of a pair of leather boots.

"_IRINA!"_

David looked up from his paperwork, as the angry sounding shout echoed down the corridor outside his study. Frowning, got up and opened the door just in time to see Rush storming past carrying something fluffy and red at arms length. Before he could say anything, Rush had rounded the corner and vanished, tiny yips and snarls echoing in his wake.

"Why was he carrying a divain puppy?"

Marching along hallways and through rooms, Rush fumed silently as the fur ball in his hands snarled and whimpered, trying to bit him through the thick leather gloves.

He was half tempted to just throw it out the nearest window after what it had done to his room, but he managed to restrain himself, almost totally sure where it had come from.

After their last trip to Blackdale a week ago, Irina had been acting awfully shifty and secretive. He thought it was just a girl thing at the time, but now he knew she had been hiding this little monster, probably in her rooms.

She had come home with enough odd animals when she was younger to know this was her fault.

How it got into _his_ rooms he didn't know, but the little mongrel would be regretting it soon enough.

"Stop squirming you little fur ball!"

Said fur ball just struggled even harder.

"Ouch! Why you little… hey! Come back here!"

The divain puppy had succeeded in twisting enough in the boy's grip so that he could reach Rush's unprotected wrist with his teeth. Rush had reflexively released the pup after tiny needle sharp fangs had sunk into his bare skin.

Cursing vehemently, Rush took off after the small reddish blur hurtling down the corridor and disappearing round the corner.

For the next two hours boy and puppy chased through the various halls and rooms of Athlum castle, toppling servants and priceless antiques everywhere they went. Thoroughly exhausted, Rush finally admitted defeat, staggering into an empty lounge and collapsing onto an overstuffed sofa.

The puppy, realising it wasn't being chased any more, turned back, trotting down the corridor it had just ran through, peering into each room, looking for it's playmate. The odd smelling mitran hadn't been fun to start with, but running was fun, and scaring all the ordinary people as they went was just the best!

Finding him stretched out in the lounge, the puppy thought for a moment, and decided that a nap might be good after all.

After the chaos in the corridors was sorted, and Irina came back from her shopping trip with Emmy, she discovered the puppy was gone from her rooms. Enlisting Emmy's help after abashedly admitting to having the creature, they didn't have to search long before they came upon one of the cutest scenes.

Rush was stretched out on a sofa, dead to the world, and curled up under his chin was the little puppy, nose hidden under the boy's collar.


	7. Warmth

AN: Another drabble for you! This one came to me when I was feeling absolutely miserable with a throat and ear infection a couple of weeks ago, but I tidied it up a bit and am fairly pleased with it. Sort of spoiler warning here, as it refers in a round about way to one particular part of the Conqueror's conversation with David at the end of the game that I found a fascinating concept. To put it plainly, as David said, "Remnants consume people?" Or, to put it more plainly, remnants consume people's souls or life force. I became hooked on that idea, and how it might have affected Rush, though there is no mention of it in game. I am assuming that all Remnants need to consume people, though as a Warden like the Conqueror, Rush can get by just eating normal food. That doesn't mean the temptation isn't there though, even if he doesn't know what it is or means…No one else seems to have picked up on the idea for a story idea, and I have about five partial versions of different aspects of that idea on my hard drive, so I'm putting this one out to test the waters, so to speak. PLEASE review and tell me what you think, or those other stories might remain incomplete or gathering dust. Oh yeah, I finally updated my profile, and added some quotes and other things, it actually looks half decent now!

Warmth.

That was what he felt from them, his friends and family, even strangers he passed in the streets. They radiated it, life and love and a thousand other things, all wrapped up in the feeling of warmth. Secretly, he craved it, needed to feel it, soak in it, take it in and make it his own, but he never did. To do so would gravely hurt those he loved, and he couldn't bear the thought.

Before, when he didn't known what he was, he had still felt it emanating from them, his family. To sate that odd longing, he had become very affectionate, always touching or hugging, revelling in the reflected warmth he could feel seeping through his skin.

Now that he knew what that warmth was, and why he craved it, he tried to distance himself from them, afraid they would see the look in his eyes and know what it meant, recognise the hunger for what it was. It didn't really work though, his friends were too stubborn to let him "brood about the current situation with the Conqueror" which is what they though he was doing.

The only one who might have an inkling about what he was really doing was his mother, the one who had found him in the depths of the Sacred Lands as a baby, and who was much more observant than anyone truly realised, even for an experienced scientist. His sister knew he was worried about something, but she was still too young and naïve to realise what was really happening, despite her insistence that she was grown up now. His father had no clue, despite presumably knowing his son's true heritage. Dave… he knew something was being kept from him, something important that his memories hinted at, but he could never really grasp the truth, too impossible for his mind to even contemplate.

Just as he thought, his mother was the one to seek him out when the others were busy, getting him to tell her what troubled him, confirming her suspicions in short order. As any good mother would do, she sat and listened to his quiet fears, her own heart aching as his voice broke with frustration and tears, spilling out his worries, telling her how afraid he was that he would hurt someone, that he might loose control. Letting him finish, she then hugged him like she did when he was small, and pointed out all the things he hadn't considered, gently dismantling his fears and brushing them aside like old cobwebs.

Leaning against the door frame of one of the conference rooms later, watching as his friends discussed battle strategies for fighting the Conqueror's army, he realised how lonely it must be for the others like him, bound to the will of one person, unable to reach out and feel/touch/taste the warmth that all those people around them emanated. He couldn't imagine not being near the people that had become _his_ in the short time he knew them, able to reach out at any time he wanted and hold them close, basking in the fierce flame of life burning within them, even if it earned him a cuff around the head or an outright kick from the more temperamental ones...

Feeling at ease with himself for the first time in months, he pushed away from the door and strolled into the room, getting nods of acknowledgment from the generals. Seeing David was still sitting and hadn't noticed him, he slunk up behind him, before throwing his arms around the young man's shoulders in a loose embrace, pulling him back into a lingering hug and ignoring the small start the other gave before relaxing into him.

Seeing faint smiles on the other's faces, and getting an eye roll from Emmy, he looked down into the upturned face of his best friend, weary and drawn from everything that had been happening, and watched as it visibly relaxed. Smiling at the trust he could see in the other's eyes, he tightened his embrace, David so used to his odd bouts of affection that he barely noticed. Feeling the young man's heart beating softly against his chest, and the warmth soaking into his body, he finally knew he could _never_ hurt those he cherished, and realised with startling clarity that he would do everything in his power to protect them, no matter the consequences, or the odds stacked against him. He would give his all to protect them, because they were the reason he could truly _live_…


	8. Brother

AN: Hey guys, another drabble for you, so I hope you like. Did this one in my spare time, which is getting very limited. XP

It's set just after the destruction of Nagapur. I don't think Mrs. Sykes was in Athlum at this point, but if she was, just pretend she isn't for this.

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**Brother**

The trip back from Nagapur was one spent in relative silence, many still shocked at the amount of death and destruction the Gwayn's attack had caused. Some quietly thought they should have stayed to help with the wounded, but David had been firm in his resolve, stating that Irina was their main priority, and that though an ambush from unfriendly forces was unlikely, she would not be safe until she was within Athlum's walls.

Once Rush woke up from the stunning blow the Conqueror had dished out, he was firmly on Dave's side in that matter. Irina herself had been very quiet, most likely from shock, hardly speaking at all and sticking very close to Rush on the way back.

Once they were back in Athlum Irina formally thanked David and the generals for coming to her rescue, before vanishing into the room she had been given, obviously upset about something but unwilling to talk about it. Leaving the matter for Rush to sort out seemed the best thing to do, for as her brother he knew how to handle her far better than a virtual stranger.

On their third night after their return, Rush was lying awake in his bed staring up at the ceiling with a frown on his face. It was late, but he just couldn't sleep. Despite his best efforts Irina still wouldn't talk to him properly, and it was really beginning to worry him.

He'd never seen her act quite like this before, even when she was upset at their parents for missing important dates like birthdays or Christmas because of their work at the Academy, or at him that one time he accidentally turned her favourite pale blue dress purple when he washed it with a few pairs of his own red socks. Despite not being conscious at the time, judging from what he'd heard from Dave afterwards, he thought he had a pretty good idea why she was avoiding everyone, though he couldn't be sure until Irina started speaking about it.

Still, he wouldn't pressure her to tell him anything that she didn't want to, because if he knew her half as well as he thought he did, she'd come to him in her own time, like she had every time in the past.

Almost as though the thought was a trigger, there was a quiet knock on his door only moments later. Responding with a soft,

"Come in"

He watched as the door eased open slowly, just enough to let the small figure of his sister slip inside. Clothed in an ankle-length nightdress she looked even smaller and younger than usual, reminding Rush of the many occasions when she used to sneak into his bed at night, woken by nightmares where she was all alone, abandoned by everyone.

Those memories of that frightened little girl, afraid she'd been abandoned by everyone and needing to check that her brother was still there, was one of the only things he resented his parents for, though he'd never say that out loud.

Looking inexplicably nervous, Irina stood hesitantly by the now closed door, fiddling with the sleeves of her nightgown. Knowing exactly what she wanted, and _needed_, right now, Rush wordlessly lifted the edge of the quilt, unsurprised by the speed with which she climbed in.

Settling the quilt over her, he wrapped one arm around her shoulders, feeling her cuddle into his chest, head tucked under his chin and hands grasping his nightshirt. Knowing there was no place for words right now, he kissed her temple, rubbing her back soothingly as he felt dampness start to soak into his collar.

Reaching out, he snuffed the candle still flickering on the bedside table before going back to rubbing Irina's back, feeling her relax as she soaked up his comforting presence. Regardless of what she felt she did or didn't do, she was still his little sister, the pint sized menace who could look totally angelic even covered in mud or sand, and who trusted him to keep all the monsters of the world at bay. He'd failed in that regard once, and it was something that would haunt him for a long time, but he'd never let it happen again. Anything that wanted to hurt his kid sister would have to go through him first…

With that last thought, he let himself drift towards sleep, secure in the knowledge that for now at least, Irina was safe from harm. Cuddling the warm body against him, he fell asleep to the steady rhythm of her breathing…


	9. Ghost of the Past

AN: Another drabble for you, though it's slightly over 1000 words. It's an unfinished idea, but one I don't think I'll ever write unless I'm in a really depressed mood. Just wanted to get it out there to see what you think. I don't think it's up to par with my other material, but it's an old piece anyway, done over a year ago. I like to think I've greatly improved since then. :3

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**Ghost of the Past**

The funeral was an ostentatious affair, with what seemed like half of Athlum in attendance, along with various dignitaries from all over the continent. Those who had been closest to the late Marquis were seated nearest to the podium where the minister was reciting the proper speeches, the elaborate oak coffin on a raised platform behind him.

The Marquis' twin sons, now grown young men, were called up to the podium to speak about their father, of all the things he'd done for Athlum despite his early passing at forty three. In the audience the three remaining generals of Athlum sat in sombre silence, Pagus having passed away five years previously of old age. The Sykes were also present, John and Marina now grey and bent with age, while their daughter Irina was now a wife and mother, though her children were too young to attend.

Scattered throughout the gathering were some familiar faces, people who had once assisted in the defeat of the Conqueror, a now semi mythical figure. High above the crowd, standing on one of the many balconies decorating the outer walls of Athlum castle, was a cloaked and shadowed figure, silently watching the proceedings below.

Unable to attend the funeral for various reasons, the figure had to content himself with watching from above, a silent ghost of the past grieving for what had been.

After the disappearance of the Remnants, the congress had passed a nearly unanimous ruling that stated all evidence of the Remnants existence was to be destroyed, every research paper and historical record, so that people like the third committee couldn't recreate them. After that, all mention of Remnants faded away, few wanting to talk of them after the truth about the Conqueror's nature had been leaked.

Due to this, the newest generation were lucky that they had even heard the word, Remnant. Only those privileged few who had lived during the war actively tried to pass on their knowledge, whispering those tales to their children when they knew no one was listening.

Unable to watch any more, the figure turned away, vanishing back into the castle. His disappearance was noticed by no one, for very few knew he was even there. Gliding along the mostly deserted corridors, the figure made his way to the late Marquis rooms. The guards protecting the suite stood to attention as he passed, recognising the insignia of the Lord's family on the cloak, even if they didn't know his identity.

Stepping into the room and closing the door behind him, the figure was hit by a dizzying cascade of memories, both good and bad. A sob catching in his throat the figure staggered over to the king sized four poster bed, discarded his cloak, and collapsed onto the coverlet, crying raggedly at the unfairness of it all.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Once the ceremony was over, the Sykes, Nassau twins and the generals retreated to the castle, all of them worried over a certain someone. Not finding him in his rooms, they started to search through the castle. Irina was the first one to check the Marquis' rooms, and the sight when she opened the door nearly broke her heart.

The man on the bed was young, barely into adulthood, his limbs splayed haphazardly across the covers. The pillow clutched in his arms was pressed to his face, muffling the harsh, wounded cries that shook his lean frame. Her heart heavy, Irina walked over to the bed and sat down near the head, placing one hand on the young man's shoulder.

Without missing a beat, Rush Sykes discarded the pillow, twisted, and wrapped his arms around his sister, hiding his face in her long black skirt. Knowing nothing she could say would comfort him, Irina just sat and stroked her brother's hair, at a loss as to how to really comfort a grieving boy who would never grow old, and never die.

To start with, no one had seen it, the first few years after his return turbulent, but happy. The twins, whose mother had died during their birth, had come to see him as a second father. His three year long absence had been explained as a side effect of being caught up in the magic that banished the Remnants.

As the twins got older however, and those around him began to develop signs of their advancing age, Rush stayed exactly the same. Not a line, wrinkle or grey hair ever graced his body, his limbs and skin staying supple and fair. When finally confronted about it, Rush admitted that he had known he might not age, but had wanted to come back anyway.

It wasn't discussed after that, aside from getting him to agree to stay cloaked while in public, to avoid too many rumours. Rush saw the people around him aging every day, but it never really seem to hit him until Pagus was found in the library one day, cold and lifeless. He had passed away sometime the night before, seated in his favourite chair, reading a book. It was a peaceful death, for he had just drifted off to sleep and never woken.

Thankfully Rush wasn't the one to find him, but it was a huge shock nonetheless. Rush locked himself away in his rooms for about a week after that, and when he finally emerged he was in a terrible state, depressed and lethargic, flinching at any mention of age or death.

Surprisingly it was Torgal who provided the most support, having a lengthy talk with Rush soon after Pagus's funeral. The young man was rather melancholy for a few days after that, but he soon improved, almost returning to his normal exuberant self.

He was much more mindful of people however, always making sure to say goodnight, or seeing someone off if they had to leave Athlum for any reason. When Emmy asked him one day why he did this, he gave her a very sombre look, and told her that he did it "in case that was the last memory he'd ever have of them."


	10. Are You Sure?

AN: Okay, this one took no time at all, it just hit me between the eyes and I had to write it down. I know some might find it a bit spotty, but it wanted to be that way, leaving it to the imagination to fill in any blanks. Binding piece, enjoy! :D

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"_Are you sure, Dave?"_

…

"_If we do this, there's no coming back, that's it."_

…

"_Alright, if you're ready…"_

It felt like being stripped down to the bone, piece by piece.

Thoughts pushed aside, pretences shattered, masks and lies and things he needed to be in others sight torn to shreds and scattered.

He was laid bare, the most fundamental part offered up for sacrifice. A bruised heart, a wounded soul, raw and scarred and waiting for that moment of clarity. Would he be accepted, or would he be cast away? Doubt and fear walked roughshod through his mind, until… there!

A touch of something greater than himself, soft and tentative and oh so warm…

No, not warm, hot and burning and it started to hurt as it reached for him with arms of light and power. Pouring forth, it filled him up, blinding in it's intensity, a searing embrace that threatened to consume him even as he revelled in it…

Beyond anything he had ever felt, the power was immense, dwarfing him in it's complexity on a vast scale.

Unlike before, this intrusion was welcomed, a cherished friend who would not make him pay with his soul.

Filled to bursting he overflowed, the presence enveloping him even as he felt it reaching deep within for that place that would finish the process…

Another moment and it was done, pain all but gone and the light fading from the world, it's purpose served.

Blinking up at a pair of dazed grey eyes, his body felt limp and boneless, tingles running rampant throughout like static. As he watched the strange, wonderful, irreplaceable being that had become so dear to him lie beside him, he closed his eyes and smiled.

Within, the new presence stretched and coiled before relaxing like a languid cat, if power enough to outshine the sun could be described as such.

Warm and sleepy and feeling safer than he had in years, David let himself drift into dreams, one hand still clasping his companion's after that act of absolute trust.

ooooooooooo

Well! On to the next one!


	11. Headaches and Arguments

**AN:** This one shot is actually a good year old, but was never posted for various reasons. Yes I might have a few other drabbles and one shots hanging around that _may_ make it online, we'll see. I would post the next chap of Unexpected Events but chapter 14 is being a real bleep to write, mostly because this is where I start really weaving in the **main plot**, not the _sub plot_ that's been going so far or the sub-sub plot that deals with the Remnant's history and Marshall's beginnings. Yes this is going to get complicated, which is why I want to get thing laid out exactly in each chapter before posting, so I don't confuse people by going back to add things later. Speaking of, I will probably go over my first few chapters to crush any instances of the comma monster I find, plus... maybe add a little foreshadowing of the main plot in a small addition...

**I am not going to continue this one shot**, so I'll leave it up to your imaginations to craft what happens next.

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**Headaches and Arguments**

Glaring at the thick trade agreement document on his desk, David sighed and massaged his forehead, the headache that had been plaguing him all morning a steady painful throb behind his eyes. Hearing feet come pounding down the corridor, David stifled a groan as that same someone began knocking frantically at his study door, barely giving David time to drag himself to his feet before throwing open the door.

Hurrying after the guard that had alerted him to the situation, David raced down to the town square, only to stop and stare in disbelief at the chaotic scene before him. Stalls were in ruins, with goods scattered all over the ground. The usual crowds were conspicuously absent, with a few braver souls clustered around the enormous wooden gates, looking on in either confusion or bemusement.

Admittedly, it wasn't often that you saw two Remnants chasing each other around the square, destroying everything in their path.

Spotting Rush and the former third committee member, Jager, standing with the other spectators by the doors, he made his way over, carefully side stepping the remains of a herb stand.

"Would either of you care to explain why the Lob Omen is chasing Mr. Diggs, and why you haven't stopped them yet?"

Watching the two before him share a guilty look, David sighed, an expression of mixed irritation and weariness crossing his face. Seconds later he was promptly bowled over by a frantic Mr. Diggs, squeaking and chirping in alarm as Lob Omen came scuttling after him, the fiery grin of the Remnant blazing white-hot in anger.

Unable to move away, all David could do was lie still as the sharp points of the Remnants feet came unnervingly close to his prone form, the Lob Omen not even noticing him as it bounded after Mr. Diggs, all it's attention fixed on the little metallic mole. Somewhat wide-eyed at his close encounter, David quickly took refuge amongst the other spectators, looking askance at Rush as the boy covered his face with both hands, a poorly hidden grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Well?"

Unsure whether to be mortified at the mess the two Remnants were causing, or appreciative due to the adorably mussed up look that Dave now sported, Rush just shrugged helplessly, not noticing the faint stress lines creasing David's forehead. Wishing more than once that he had the courage to tell Dave his feelings, Rush bit the inside of his cheek, his fingers itching to play with the lock of golden hair that now fell over Dave's eye. As though guessing the boy's thoughts, Jager elbowed him sharply in the ribs before answering.

"We did try, neither of 'em will listen. The mole's too panicked and Lob Omen's too angry."

Rubbing his temples in irritation as yet another stall became a casualty of the two Remnants, David muttered something unpleasant under his breath, before pinning Jager with a look that made him want to squirm.

"I was under the impression that Lob Omen is _your_ Remnant, Jager. If you order it to stop, it should obey you, no trying involved."

Ignoring the embarrassed look on the ex-third committee members face, David turned to Rush next, his headache growing steadily worse.

"I know you haven't bound Mr. Diggs, but if you don't find some way to stop them in the next half-hour, I **will** get one of the soldiers to bind it, whether you want it bound or not."

Closing his eyes as he massaged the bridge of his nose, David missed the look of shock that crossed Rush's face, but he certainly didn't miss the boy's indignant exclamation at David's words.

"Dave, the reason I haven't bound Mr. Diggs is because he doesn't want to be bound. You can't force a binding on him, that would be cruel!"

David hid a wince as his headache decided to kick it up a notch, the throb transforming into a herd of raptors stomping through his head.

"Rush, Mr. Diggs is a Remnant, not a pet, a partner or a friend whose feelings can be hurt. _It_ is a Remnant, and Remnants are tools, powerful, dangerous tools. Being the son of two Academy scientists should have taught you this. You do not treat them as you would another person because they are _not_ people, and they cannot be viewed as such."

Catching Rush's eye, David saw the impact his words had, the expression of shock and hurt on the boy's face melting away into a cold, blank mask.

What David hadn't remembered was that their little talk hadn't been in private, and everyone was quiet, staring at the two boys. Even the Remnants had noticed, pausing their mad chase to listen in, Lob Omen's fiery glow dimming back to it's normal red colour.

Breaking the uneasy silence, Rush turned away, an odd look of betrayal in his eyes. Reaching up automatically as Mr. Diggs jumped into his arms, chirping in concern, Rush glanced once at David, holding the Marquise gaze as his own storm grey eyes became pools of green luminance before he vanished in a blur of motion.

Feeling strangely guilty and wondering about Rush's odd reaction, David stared in the direction Rush and Mr. Diggs had disappeared in, regretting his unusually harsh words. Before he could do anything else however, he noticed Lob Omen stalking towards him, bristling despite the distinct lack of feathers or fur.

Blatantly ignoring Jager's orders to stop, the fiery Remnant leaned in until it was almost nose to nose with the Marquise, the blistering heat emanating from its faceplate threatening to burn David's skin. Glaring as only a Remnant could, its four glowing eyes showing only anger and was that _contempt(?)_, Lob Omen poked David sharply in the gut with one of its spiky legs, hard enough to bruise, its flaming grin almost spitting sparks.

Stepping back, it side-stepped Jager's attempt to grab it, before making a noise that could only be described as a screech, sounding like a cross between an angry spiritlord and a boiling kettle. Recoiling at the painful sound, David could only watch as Lob Omen turned its back on him, scythe shaped wings flaring into existence just before it took off, circling the square once before shooting away across the city.

Directing the soldiers to begin the cleanup process, David retreated to his rooms, deciding to apologise to Rush when he next saw him, not for his words, as he believed every one of them, but for the tone he'd used which had been far too harsh. He knew Rush had odd ideas about Remnants and how they should be treated, which became even more obvious after the fiasco of the Koenigsdorf bases.

He had started to hang around Jager more, Lob Omen often right beside him. He let Mr. Diggs follow him everywhere, he even shared his rations with the little mole when they were travelling, thanking or praising it when it uncovered a particularly rare component, and asking its opinions as though it could answer.

The others were fairly indulgent of his unusual views, Emmy saying that it was quite endearing, while Pagus even mentioned that the Remnants seemed to reciprocate, as mad as it sounded.

Now that David thought about it, Pagus just might be right in his observation. The many Remnants that they had collected in their travels did seem to respond to Rush, those that were mobile, like Lob Omen and Namul Niram, seeming to gravitate towards him. Even the weapon shaped Remnants like the Ama Gi and the Frostblade went 'missing' occasionally, only to be found hiding somewhere in Rush's room or in his pack.

No one blamed the boy for this, most found it rather amusing, though also exasperating if you were the owner of the Remnant who had gone 'missing'. The question that plagued David was why these things happened, when he didn't believe that Remnants could be that... human, responding to emotions with those of their own.

If the Remnants had responded in the same way to Irina, David could have just passed the whole phenomena off as a side effect of Marion's Blessing, shared as it was between both siblings, but they didn't. They even seemed to shy away from the girl, as though in fear... which was also impossible, for Remnants _didn't have emotions._

That would require them to be living creatures, and everyone knew they were just magical and/or mechanical constructs of a bygone age. The Remnants only parroted emotional responses, copying how the people around them acted to certain things, and only a miracle would make David believe that they really did feel emotion.

Stripping off his coat, David flung it carelessly across the back of an armchair in his private morning room, too tired to care if the expensive silk got wrinkled. Closing his bedroom door behind him he only paused long enough to remove his shoes before collapsing with an exasperated sigh.

Lying across his bed, David pillowed his head on one arm, flinging the other across his eyes in a futile attempt to block out the mid afternoon sunlight streaming in through the full length windows.

Despite knowing that the trade agreement wouldn't resolve itself, David stubbornly put off going back to his study, dozing fitfully for a couple of hours, before opting to go down to the gardens, hoping that some fresh air might help his headache.

Heaving himself reluctantly to his feet, David went to retrieve his coat from the rumpled heap he'd left it in, only to get a surprise. It wasn't on the chair where he had left it. Instead, it was in crumpled on the floor, smoking slightly, its edges looking distinctly charred. Sitting innocuously on the seat above it, was the Ex Machina, the eye patch form of Kellendros hooked around the barrel.

Staring in disbelief, the young Marquise just grimaced, glared at the offending Remnant, and stalked past it, slamming the door on his way out. Cursing his stubborn headache, David hurried down to the garden entrance, doing his level best to ignore the fact that it looked like Kellendros had deliberately torched his favourite coat.


	12. Morning Coffee

**AN:** As far as Rush's reaction to the brushing goes, I speak from experience. My hair is down to my knees and an absolute pain to brush on my own. When someone else does in and gets the top of my head with just the right force... Oh, it's nirvana in a brush it is. Not quite sure why but the reaction only seems to apply for long hair, I never hear about that from peeps with short hair... Oh I would like to hear from both slash and straight shippers about what they think about this 'relationship' I gave these two. Do you like it, not like it? I'm trying to go for something like this, though obviously much less evolved, for Rush and Dave in U.E, platonic yet with a degree of intimacy a bit beyond the norm.

**Morning Coffee**

Sipping his late morning coffee and watching the news on the wall mounted LCD TV, David was not at all surprised when Rush finally decided to join the world of the living. Stumbling into the kitchen sans shirt and one sock, the young (in looks anyway) man made a beeline for the steaming coffee pot, mumbling something about evil cheese toast on the way. David didn't bother asking, having heard much more outlandish things from the other man in the past.

Once suitably revived by the heady brew Rush meandered over to the kitchen table nursing his mug. More than used to this morning routine by now, David had just enough time to put his cup down and out of danger before arms wound round his shoulders. With a grip an octopus would envy Rush engaged in his usual post waking ritual, bending to rub his cheek in David's hair in a smooth and remarkably catlike gesture. It was one of several less... human behaviours that Rush thankfully never displayed in public, though David was sure the other bottled them up in preparation for when he got home.

"_Morning..._"

The greeting came out more than a little mangled, breaking into a yawn halfway through before descending into a slightly squeaky purr. Smirking a little at the wonky sound (Rush unfailingly sounded like this in the mornings and retribution for any helium jokes was always swift) David tugged lightly on the longish black strands obscuring his vision.

A couple of decades ago Rush had decided to grow out his hair, and was now sporting a near waist length tumble of silky blue-black that even some _men_ were admiring of. In fact he actually looked _more_ masculine than he had with it short, if that made sense.

Indeed it made him appear older, though still nowhere _near_ his real age considering his twenty-something appearance today. It was also one of his weak spots David had found and after some coercion David learned the precise art of detangling long hair. It helped that if he did his brush strokes just _so_ Rush melted under his hands, purring like a traction engine.

"Do you want me to brush it for you?"

He could easily imagine the way Rush's eyes lit up at those words, and sure enough he was momentarily deserted, a green blur resolving into Rush proffering a comb and a paddle brush, grinning unashamedly. Turning in his seat he took both implements before Rush straddled another chair, twirling it away from the table and resting his forearms on the back.

Brandishing the comb first David set to work, easing out any tangles accumulated overnight while Rush watched the news out of the corner of his eye.

"Hey Dave, are you sure you need to go on this stupid business trip? I mean you'll be away for at least a week..."

Switching to the brush David tapped Rush lightly on the head.

"Oh hush, you know I can't refuse or I'll be at risk of losing my job, this is an important deal and if I don't get this client to sign..."

Squirming a little as he felt the brush pause in its ministrations, the other man huffed softly.

"You don't even need a job, you have enough in the bank to last three lifetimes and we could live on the interest alone, not to mention what I earn. You know I don't like it when you go away."

David smiled exasperatedly at this, brushing a little harder in response.

"Rush... you know I like to keep busy. It wouldn't feel right to just sit back and laze around, nor would it be right to depend solely on your talents for money, mister artiste extraordinaire."

Rush just answered with a displeased grumble that transformed into small moan of pleasure when David dragged the brush slowly over his scalp. David kept up the slow forceful strokes, Rush becoming boneless on the chair, eyes fluttering closed as the bristles sent tingles down his spine.

"I know you don't like it, I don't have a particular fondness for it either but it must be done."

Giving one last stroke he smoothed a hand over Rush's sleek hair, chuckling when he got an actual whine of disappointment.

"That's it done, now go and get dressed for heaven's sake and don't forget to tie it back."

Turning back to his coffee, which was now lukewarm at best, David heard Rush slide off the chair and wander back to his room, but not before he planted a chaste kiss on David's temple, eyes lidded and warm.

Left with his thoughts David found himself reminiscing, thinking about how it had been, and what they had now.

One thing David knew would bother other people and if he were honest had bothered him more than a little in the beginning was that he had no idea how to classify their relationship. They were too close physically and emotionally to be mere friends or even brothers, yet their own special brand of intimacy was about as far from being sexual as it could get.

Sleeping together, when it occurred was just that, sleeping and only done for the sensation of comfort and closeness, of another presence within arm's reach. Cuddling at almost any time of the day was a given with Rush, provided they were both home and a kiss or two wasn't out of the question though it need not be on the mouth, indeed most were on the back of his neck as Rush had a tendency to creep up behind him unnoticed. Most defining however, there was no attraction between them, no physical desire for anything beyond simple companionship.

David had once brought up the subject, afraid that he wasn't giving what Rush wanted, and the other had nearly fallen over in shock. Afterwards Rush had sat with him and explained very simply that _that_ wasn't what he wanted. He didn't want David to try and force himself into a role he was uncomfortable with, to try and make what they had fit into a neat little box.

In one of those rare instances where he actually came out and said it, Rush told him labelling things was what _humans_ did, which is why that tactic would never work with them. "_Just do what feels natural and so will I, don't worry or fret over it and any snags we'll sort out as they come_" David was told with a reassuring smile, and it had worked out in the end.

Given some trial and error.


End file.
